


Too Pretty To Die

by co2lneededzs



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Firefly AU, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/co2lneededzs/pseuds/co2lneededzs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s the best smuggler in the ‘Verse.  He’s been a thorn in the Alliance’s side since the war.  It’s inevitable that they would cross paths.  Eponine/Enjolras Firefly AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She is struck speechless the first time he comes to request her services.  The dim light in her ship’s bay glances off his golden hair, effectively dazzling her.  Montparnasse elbows her in the gut, bringing her out of whatever trance this man put her under.  She turns to smirk at her pilot, knowing these pretty, rich boys are going to be easy pickings.  She unfolds herself from the chair she’s been sitting on, and her smirk turns in to a smolder as the blonde man (who is even more beautiful up close) and the two men flanking either side of him (she could probably take on the one with the glasses if it came to that, but she would not want to tangle with the giant brute of a man next to him) approach her. 

            “You boys lost?”  She addresses the blonde, but her eyes never waiver from the large man standing on the right, cracking his knuckles.  The blonde looks her over and replies, “I don’t know, you tell me.”  Her smirk is back as she informs him that there are no companions who would stoop so low as to offer their services around these parts. 

            “I’m not looking for a companion,” he retorts.  “But perhaps you can point me in the direction of Thenardier?”

            She should have known this pretty boy would be looking for what her father sold.  Thenardier was involved in all sorts of black market schemes.  And until she’d severed ties with him a few months ago, she’d been smuggling his goods.  She and Montparnasse had out maneuvered the Feds more times than they could count.  She knows that she’s one of the best smugglers in the ‘Verse, and that her father wanted her back more than anything.  She smiled sweetly at the men in front of her, and hooking her thumbs through the belt loops of her pants, she replied “You don’t wanna get involved with Thenardier, Pretty Boy.  Someone might come along and mess up that nice face of yours.” 

            The blonde shifted and smirked.  “I’m not looking for Thenardier.  I’m looking for his daughter.  ‘Ponine.  I’ve heard people talk that if you want something… relocated, she’s the one to talk to.” 

            She can hear Montparnasse shifting behind her, ready to attack if need be.  She sends him a pointed look before turning back to the blonde.  “I may or may not know where she is.  But she doesn’t do that anymore.  She goes by Jondrette now.  And she don’t like people trying to get all up in her business.  Now, if you boys wanna leave a message, maybe she’ll get back to you.” 

            The big man on the right whispers to the one with glasses, who elbows the blonde with a pointed nod in her direction.  The blonde purses his lips, and gives a terse nod to the one in glasses before turning back to her.  He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, looking her dead in the eye before saying “Tell her Enjolras is looking for her.  If that doesn’t entice her, nothing will.”  With that, the three men left.  She is once again struck speechless, her mind trying to reconcile the impertinent pretty boy who just stood before her with the faceless revolutionary who pokes as many holes as he can in the Alliance.  She shakes her head, and starts to go back to Montparnasse and her chair, when she hears a man’s voice yell out “Eponine.”  She turns in the direction of the voice before she can realize what she’s doing.  She sees the blonde man (although she guesses she will now have to refer to him as Enjolras) grin at her, his smirk wide enough to tear his face in half, and the other two men chuckling beside him. _Ta Ma De Hun Dan_.  She can’t believe she’d be so stupid to fall for this.  Of course they had known who she was since they had started talking.  She takes a deep breath before turning around to address the men. 

            “Eponine Jondrette at your service, boys.  Now, what exactly can I do for you?”  


	2. Chapter 2

They want her to transport guns.  Lots of guns.  The face of the behemoth (who she now knows as Bahorel) lights up when they talk about the guns.  She feels uneasy with the three of them in her ship.  She’d feel better if Cosette or Jehan were there, if it wasn’t just Montparnasse and her.  She sure that if something were to go amiss, she could take on Combefrerre (the one with glasses), and ‘Parnasse could probably overtake Enjolras, but even the two of them against Bahorel would just be fighting a losing battle.  She, Montparnasse and Grantaire are the only ones on the ship, and since Grantaire is passed out again, he wouldn’t be much help.  She really needs to kick some sense into her intoxicated First Mate, but there is nothing to be done about it now.  Now, she’s stuck listening to this pretty boy revolutionary discuss what he needs her to do.  To be fair, she’s sure to be compensated quite heavily for this, and even though she’s broken ties with her family, she’s still a Thenardier at heart, and that’s what tells her that she can’t pass this job up, despite the fact that this pretty boy is fighting to make her way of life pretty damn near impossible. 

She sighs and taps her fingers against the arm of her chair, focusing on Enjolras.  His hair is a little too long, and his eyes blaze when he is talking about the corrupt Alliance.  She’s only half listening to him when she hears the tell-tale clattering and muffled swearing of her first mate.  She catches Montparnasse’s eye and nods in the direction of the door, imploring him to placate the drunk, and explain the situation to him.  Grantaire must be getting better at maneuvering while hung over, because before Montparnasse can stand up, the drunk has burst through the door, effectively startling her new clients.  She watches the three men react to the drunk, and notices Bahorel reaching toward his belt.

 She plasters on a winning smile, and addresses Grantaire, who is busy rummaging through the various cabinets searching for something.  “Grantaire, either quiet down or get out.  I’m doing business here.”  The drunk fixes her with a lazy smile, and blinks a few times before focusing on the men sitting at the table.  A Cheshire grin over takes his face as he sees Enjolras, who is staring at him.  “Oh, Mighty Apollo, how kind of you to grace us with your presence.” 

Enjolras smiles for the first time since he sat down, and maintains it as Bahorel responds to Grantaire.  “R, it is wonderful to see you again, as always.  I’m very glad to see that the impending destruction of your liver is still on course.”  And with that the men at the table all laugh, and Grantaire accepts a hug from the behemoth, and suddenly, everything clicks in her head, and she knows how these men found her, even though she’s done such a good job at keeping a low profile.  So she pushes back her chair, rises, turns to her first mate, pulls back her fist, and punches him in the face.  “Go Neong Yung Duh!” She screams at him as he rubs his now sore jaw.  “You son of a bitch, you sold me out.  You told this Ta Ma Duh how to find me.  I’ll kill you with my own two hands.” 

With that, she lunges at Grantaire, and is so close to wrapping her fingers around his windpipe, when Montparnasse’s arms wrap around her midsection, and pull her away from the drunk.  She can hear Bahorel laughing and she whips around to give the large man a death glare.  He has no right to laugh at her, seeing as she’s the only one who could possibly get their stupid guns.  She elbows Montparnasse, and flops down in the chair she had vacated.  She turns a glare on all of the men in the room, most of who are laughing at Grantaire’s expense.  Enjolras isn’t laughing.  He’s studying her face, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips, and he clears his throat, silencing the men who were giggling like little girls.  He is just about to resume his rambling about the Alliance, when the clatter of the bay door opening is heard.  She gets up again, and addresses the men in front of her.  “We can talk logistics later.  Now you get to meet the rest of the crew.”         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bastardized Chinese in this reads (in order of appearance): Son of a Bitch and Motherfucker. YAY. I should note that I don't speak Chinese, and all phrases are from here: http://firefly.wikia.com/wiki/Dictionary


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the crew is introduced.

      She’s not that worried about these men meeting the rest of her crew.  She figures that if they know Grantaire, they must also know Jehan, seeing as the two men had shown up together about six months back.  She had let them on her ship without many questions.  The drunk and the small mercenary had since proven to be worthy additions to her then tiny crew when they weren’t hung-over or mooning over some lost love, or selling her out.  She’s not worried about them meeting Joly and Bossuet either.  She’s almost certain Joly thinks his Hippocratic Oath extends to all aspects of his life, and everyone tends to not let Bossuet near anything that could hurt him or someone else, except the engine room.  No, she’s definitely not worried about her boys who are almost always fiercely loyal (with the exception of that whole selling her out thing) and generally harmless.  The one she is worried about is Cosette. 

      Cosette is definitely a wild card, especially if men are involved.  She had shown up on one of their runs on Osiris around four months ago.  She had stowed on board and they never even would have known she was there if it weren’t for Bossuet upsetting the crate she’d been hiding in.  Cosette had almost sliced off the head of the unlucky mechanic, and would have succeeded if it weren’t for Jehan quickly getting his arms around her before she could strike.  No one was sure what to do with the girl who would only talk to Jehan and sometimes Eponine, and could barely spare the looks of distrust and disgust for the other four.  In the four months Cosette has been with them, she has grown less wary of the other men on the ship, though she still gets jumpy while around Montparnasse, much to his displeasure.  She had been telling Jehan her story, and he’d been sharing it with the rest of them, fitting together the puzzle pieces that make up the petite blonde girl.  Cosette had told Jehan that she had lived alone with her father in a large house on Osiris before his death, that since she could walk, her father had been training her in swordplay, and that he had instilled in her a deep distrust for men and authority figures.  After her father’s death, Cosette had found a note from him, telling her about his past, detailing the Alliance officer who had been chasing him for half of his life.  She’d snuck on Eponine’s ship in order to get off Osiris and to try and hunt down the _Hwen Dan_ who had made her father live in fear for most of his life. So of course Eponine had let her stay with no hesitation, especially once Cosette had proven how well her father had trained her.  Cosette was able to best Grantaire in swordplay twice (once when he was drunk, and then again in a rematch when he was sober-ish), Jehan in hand to hand combat, and she had almost scratched up ‘Parnasse’s face when he went at her with his knife.  Eponine had stood at the side and laughed with Joly and Bossuet as her boys bemoaned the various cuts and bruises that Cosette had given them.  And that was what sealed the deal.  That was the moment when Cosette went from stowaway to crewmember, becoming their second merc. 

            Eponine can now hear muffled thuds and some curses coming from the bay, and she’s really worried about it.  None of her crew would be fighting with each other, unless Jehan accidently made a pass at Joly again, and Bossuet tried to ‘defend his honor.’  The last time that had happened, Bossuet had ended up with two black eyes and a broken nose, all by his own fists.  Jehan had ducked, which had caused the mechanic to go off balance, and fall, accidently hitting himself in the face on the way down.  So now, as she hears louder noises intermingled with shrieks (most likely from Joly,) she can’t help but be a little nervous.  If someone has done something to piss Cosette off, she’s not sure anything in the ‘Verse will be able to stop the tiny blonde girl from demolishing the entire ship.  So she runs her fingers through her hair, and looks to Grantaire, telling him silently to fulfill his duties as first mate and to go check on the commotion in the bay.  He nods at her, and leaves, bumping a little bit into the door on the way out.  She’s nervous that her new clients are going to try and follow him, but Enjolras just stares at her, unblinking, as Combeferre and Bahorel attempt to get his attention.  She smiles in what she hopes is a reassuring manner, and exchanges a glance with Montparnasse.  She really wants to tell him to go after Grantaire, because the hung-over man is going to be completely demolished by whatever is happening in the bay, but she doesn’t want the three other men to think that she can’t handle her crew.  She’s debating the merits of sending ‘Parnasse after him, when Cosette’s lilting voices crackles over the p.a. system.  “Oh Captain, my Captain, Come see what we found.”                                     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. Sorry this happened. Evidently I enjoy ending with dialogue?? The kind-of Chinese in this chapter reads "bastard." So that's fun. Also, I'm super excited for Cosette, because she is a badass in this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet a dreamer, and plans are made.

Eponine knows she never should have let Cosette and Jehan lead this expedition to pick up some parts for the ship and various other necessities.  The last time she had let them take care of the money from their last run, she’d been forced to go without bits of essential maintenance because Jehan thought they needed rutting strawberries.  He had protested that after all of the violence of their last run, they deserved a treat.  “I almost got shot for you, ‘Ponine.  I hate getting shot.” 

She had rolled her eyes at his melodramatics then, and so of course, now, with Cosette sounding so excited over the comm, she’s a bit worried about what they had brought back with them.  She wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them had somehow managed to get their hands on a puppy or something.  She isn’t sure that she will be able to go up against them.  She really doesn’t want to appear weak in front of her new clients, so she mutters to Montparnasse, telling him to make sure no one follows her, and smiles once again at the three men seated at the table, excusing herself to go deal with her happy go lucky mercs.  

            When she gets to the cargo hold, she doesn’t find a puppy.  Instead she is greeted by the smiling faces of Jehan and Cosette, and a very dazed young man sitting on the floor between them.  Grantaire is standing off to the side, smirking as Joly and Bossuet burst in the laughter.  She shoots both of them a look that would cut glass, and turns her attention to her mercs, who still look beside themselves with giddiness.  She rubs her temples, and pushes back her hair before addressing the two.  “Alright.  You have ten seconds to tell me who this Wong Ba Duhn is, or I’ll throw both of you off my rutting ship.” 

            She watches as the two exchange glances, and Jehan opens his mouth to explain, when a voice barking “Marius” cuts through the bay.  The man on the ground glances up, and she turns to see Enjolras striding through her ship bay, with Montparnasse trailing behind him, and the other two following him.  ‘Parnasse sidles up to her, and mutters “Sorry Cap.  That Hwen Dan is sneaky.  I looked away for one second, and he was already out the door.”

            Her fingers reach for her temples again while she watches Enjolras pull the man on the ground (Marius, evidently) to his feet.  She can’t quite hear what Enjolras is hissing at Marius, but she’s sure she would not want to be in his shoes.  The man in question still doesn’t look all there, and with good reason, if he has just tangled with both Jehan and Cosette, who have slunk around to stand behind her as they all watch the revolutionary lay into the poor freckled boy.  When Eponine feels like enough time has passed, she clears her throat and steps forward. 

            “Excuse me, sir, but I believe we have business to attend to, do we not?” 

She flashes her winning smile at Enjolras and Marius, noticing for the first time, that if you look past his potentially broken nose, the latter is very attractive.  Her smile broadens, and she turns around, pushing past Montparnasse, and then stepping around Combefrerre and Bahorel, strutting back to the kitchen, not bothering to look if the others were following her.  When she reaches her destination, she abruptly whirls around, almost hitting Montparnasse in the face.  “’Parnasse, if you would please make sure we are not interrupted, I would very much like to speak to _Monsieur_ Enjolras alone.”

            With that, she glances at the man in question and gestures to the door of the kitchen, indicating that he should go first.  She waits until he passes her before glaring at her crew (and the three men Enjolras has brought with him) before following him through the door, pushing it shut behind her.  She turns to look at the blonde man who is staring at his feet, rolling her salt shaker between his hands.  She smiles a cheshire grin, reaching over to him, and plucking the shaker from his hands.  He looks at her, startled, and she can’t help but laugh at his expression.  He leans against the table, his eyes now locked with her, as she chokes back her laughter. 

            She is almost somber when she begins asking Enjolras questions about his so called revolution.  If it weren’t for the deprecating smirk playing about her lips, one might call her interested.  She watches him explain, nodding when necessary, and interrupting when she wants clarification on a point.  When he is finished with his mini rant, she stretches and yawns before gliding over to where he is leaning.  She puts her hand out for him to shake, and says “ _Monsieur_ , you have yourself a deal.  I’ll get those guns for you on three conditions.  One, I want to make sure that I’m to be compensated fairly.   Two, we do this my way, none of your namby pamby rich boy bullshit, and three, I get two of your men as leverage.” 

            She’s pretty sure he’s shocked by her directness.  She knows that this run has every potential to go wrong.  She has a record a mile long with the Alliance, and he’s been on their shit list since the end of the war.  If the two of them are going to be working together, she sure as hell isn’t going to endanger only her crew.  Not to mention that she trusts this rich boy about as far as she can throw him, and she can’t help but want a little bit of security.  She watches him think over her proposal, his face blank.  He runs his fingers through his hair, and she can’t help but marvel at the way it glints, even in the manufactured light of her ship’s kitchen.  Eponine shifts from foot to foot, waiting for his response.  After what seems to be the longest time, he gives her a curt nod and a strained smile as she puts out her hand again.  He shakes it, looking her square in the eye, not letting go until her gaze is locked with his.  She squirms a little under his intense scrutiny, but doesn’t break contact.  He sighs and steps away, moving toward the kitchen door, calling over his shoulder as she sinks into a chair.  “Meet me at the Musain in two days’ time.  We’ll discuss the rest then.” 

            Her head falls into her hands as her crew bursts into the room after Enjolras leaves.  She simply gets up, and looks at the salt shaker, tipped on its side on the counter.  She faces her crew, her smile predatory.  She makes sure all of their eyes are on her before asking, “How would you guys like to take down a government?”                        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know about this one. Thank you to everyone who has either said nice things, or left kudos on this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eponine is mildly annoyed, and a undercover agent is introduced

She’s been waiting at the Musain for twenty minutes, her fingers running over the edge of the glass in front of her.  The stupid rich boy hadn’t given her a time, so she’s been sitting alone at the bar like an idiot, waiting.  Of course, she’s not completely alone.  She made sure Jehan was somewhere in the bar, just in case this meeting came to blows.  She tiredly runs a hand through her hair, pushing the long mess away from her face.  She has better things to do besides wait in this stupid, crowded bar.  She wishes they didn’t need the money from this run so desperately.  If they didn’t need the money, she could just leave the bar and not worry about this arrogant pretty boy.  Only they do need the money, and jobs are few and far between.  She’s pretty sure he father has warned every one of his contacts to stay away from his runaway daughter and her misfit crew, which is great because she doesn’t want anything to do with her father or anyone affiliated with him, but it certainly makes finding work harder.  She can’t lose this contract because they need to eat, the ship needs parts, and she’s sure that sooner or later Bossuet is going to break something that Joly can’t fix in the med bay, and then they’re going to have to go through a hospital, which they can’t afford without this job. So she’s just going to have to suck it up and wait for this stupid pretty boy to show up, and hope that he sticks to his part of the deal.  She drains the glass in front of her, and nods to the bartender, offering him a smile that bordered on promising as he poured her some more.  She throws in a wink over the glass, before putting the rim to her mouth.  She drinks heavily from it before putting down the glass and laying her head on the bar.   She’s tired, and she’s just about to say screw it, and leave, the job be damned.  She lifts her head from the bar and is about to slide off the chair and collect Jehan before she realizes that there is someone sitting next to her that wasn’t there before.  She looks to her left and sees Bahorel grinning at her before he reaches over and snags her drink.  She narrows her eyes at the familiar way the man is treating her.  Past clients hadn’t even liked to be in the same room as her, and now this big brute is taking her alcohol.  She cracks her neck and smiles widely at him.  “Where is your fearless leader,” she taunts. 

            Bahorel’s lips quirk up into a smirk as he stares past her shoulder.  She turns around, and is startled by how close Enjolras is to her.  She’s pretty hard to sneak up on, and even harder to scare, so the fact that she has no idea how long the pretty rich boy has been standing there is worth noting.  The smile falls from her face as he slips into the seat to her right, and gestures to the bartender, who comes over and flashes her a quick look of disappointment before pouring Enjolras something that look suspiciously like water.  She wishes that she had her drink right now, so she could keep her hand occupied.  She feels foolish, having been snuck up on like a child.  She pushes the hair away from her face, and looks him dead in the eye.  “Have you thought about my conditions?”

 He nods briskly, and picks up the glass in front of him.  She watches as he takes a drink, and she can’t help that her eyes are drawn to where his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.  She shakes her head a little and she can feel her face flush because she should not be noticing how attractive this stupid little rich boy is.  She glances over her shoulder, look for Jehan, because she really needs to ground herself right now, and even though Montparnasse and Grantaire are better than the light as air Merc at keeping her centered, he’s the only life line she has, and she’s going to cling to him as steadfastly as possible.  Her eyes flicker from face to face, desperately searching for the tell-tale hair, but she can’t find Jehan in the crowded bar.  She sees an Asian man with slicked back hair in an expensive suit gesturing wildly at whoever he’s speaking to, but she can’t find Jehan.  She turns back to Enjolras who is watching her curiously, and she wets her lips as he begins talking about where exactly she has to get the weapons from.  She raises her eyebrows as he talks, and drums her fingers on the bar, seemingly bored out of her mind.  She stops when she feels a large hand covering hers, and she sees Bahorel shake his head, then gesture toward Enjolras, obviously warning her to pay attention.  She sighs a little, but she turns her attention to what he’s saying.  She really starts to listen when she hears him mention the name Brujon.  Her father and Brujon go way back, and if he tells her father that she’s running guns for some rich boy revolutionary, she’s never going to be able to eat again.  She leans her elbows on the bar and rubs her temples, biting back a growl.  Enjolras breaks off his speech to look at her.  Bahorel elbows her side in order to get her to look at his mighty leader.  She stares straight into Enjolras’ eyes, and sees a fire there that terrifies her more than anything. He barks out a harsh laugh, asking her if she has a problem with any of the things he just told her.  She thinks about lying to him, telling him that nothing is wrong, but under his uncompromising stare, she finds herself telling him that “Brujon and I go way back.”

Enjolras looks startled, and she can’t help but smile a little at the unshakeable man looking like he doesn’t have the words for once.  She’s quick to reassure him that she’s going to go through with the job, since she’s promised him already.  “You better make sure Brujon doesn’t know who is doing the pickup.  Since you’re loaning me two of your men, I’m now going to need at least one of them to be someone Brujon has never met.  If he knows I’m involved, he’ll be sure to let my father know, and that won’t go over well for either of us, Pretty boy.” 

“You can take Marius.  He’s the only one out of all of us who has never met with any of our suppliers.”  She nods, thinking that the man who probably could barely hold his own against Bossuet is going to be no match for Brujon and his thugs.  When she tells Enjolras this, he shrugs a little.  “I guess I can let go of Bahorel for a couple of days.  How long do you think it will take you to get to Hera and back?” 

            She shrugs, “Two, three days, definitely no more than four.  How long do you want it to take us?”  

Enjolras ignores her, and instead looks over her head to Bahorel, motioning to the Asian man in the corner.  Bahorel stands up, and goes over to the well-dressed man and picks him up (with one hand) by the back of his suit, and half carries him over to where they are sitting, ignoring the protests that are tumbling from the noticeably smaller man’s mouth.  When Bahorel sets him down, the Asian man brushes off his suit and glares at Enjolras.  “Was there really no other way to do that?  How many times to I have to tell you, if you need me, do it subtly.  I can’t have anyone getting wise to the fact that I’m hanging around you as it is.  If word gets back to the Alliance that I got rutting carried to you like a kitten, it will be all of our heads.”

Eponine draws back when she hears the man say Alliance.  She watches him warily, not quite sure what to make of the ostentatious man, who throws around big words with even bigger consequences if the wrong person hears them.  She’s still a little on edge when Enjolras bites back a laugh, and responds “Courfeyrac, you knew what you were getting into when you signed up.  It’s not my fault you were the only one with the degree and the right look for the Alliance to even consider hiring you.” 

This Courfeyrac scoffs and warns Enjolras, “You’ll be sorry for being so harsh with me when I run off like Jehan and Grantaire.  Jehan said they found a nice little smuggling ship to stay aboard, and that the captain isn’t so bad.  I bet he’d take me on without any hesitation.” 

At this Eponine snorted, and Bahorel let out a loud roar of laughter and even Enjolras cracks a smile.  Courfeyrac looks between his captain and the merc, before his eyes land on her.  His mouth twitches up, and he looks uncomfortable with the situation he’s stumbled into.  “Am I missing a joke here, or something?  What exactly is so funny?”  

Jehan slips in between Eponine and Enjolras from out of nowhere, and faces Courfeyrac.  “Courf, I overheard you say you want to join our crew.  The good news for you is that the captain happens to be right here, right now.  I’m sure she’d love to have you on board, but were a little tight for space considering we’re adding two passengers to this trip.”  He addresses her.  “What do you think ‘Ponine?  Do you think he’s worthy enough to take a ride in our fine boat?”  She smiles as the gears click into place in Courfeyrac’s head, and he draws in a deep breath when he comes to the conclusion that she’s the captain Enjolras has hired.  His eyes widen and he reaches out to grip her hand and press a kiss to the top.  “My apologies ma’am.  I’m sure you are twice the captain that I would ever be.”

She accepts his apology with a smile, and when Enjolras clears his throat all four of them look at him.  His face is completely serious when he says, “If we’re all done with the pleasantries for the evening, I suggest we get down to business.”                                           

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to Hihiyas and Crazyaceandpokerface on Tumblr, both of whom said some really nice things when I feeling kind of off about my writing. So this is for you lovely people. xo


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercs disappear, and stories are told.

They eventually end up getting through everything.  There is now a set plan for when they will leave, and how long it will take, and a rendezvous point is decided upon.  She wanted to just leave after everything is settled, but at some point in the discussion, Jehan disappeared with Courfeyrac, and because she’s pretty sure that he’s too drunk to actually find his way back to the ship, she sticks around.  She sits a chair away from Enjolras, watching as Bahorel gets steadily drunker, and ends up getting kicked out after he punches the bartender in the face.  She rolls an empty glass between her hands, staring at the door, waiting for Jehan.  She wants to just call it a night, but she really needs her merc tomorrow.  She hopes he didn’t go too far off, because last time he got drunk and wandered off, it involved a full on man hunt.  Bossuet had eventually tripped over him curled up asleep in an alleyway half way across Persephone.  She’s going to need all of her crew in top shape tomorrow and she can’t have an exhausted team out at all hours combing through back alleys and dive bars in search of someone who attracts some of the most dubious people while drunk.  She just hopes that this Courfeyrac is responsible enough to get her merc back to her in one piece.             

            It’s an hour later, and she’s running her hands over her face when she realizes that Enjolras has moved into the chair next to her, and there is a full glass in front of her.  She rubs her temples and smiles at him, inclining her head in thanks.  He raises his glass to her, and takes a sip of whatever it is he’s been drinking all night.  She hasn’t seen his get the glass refilled yet so if it is alcohol (or anything really, they’ve been in the bar for a long time), she admires his temperance.  She copies the gesture, and lets the heady drink slide down her throat.  She coughs a little, and pushes the hair away from her face before turning to him.     

            She breaks the silence that has settled uncomfortably over them.  She’s looking at her hands when she mumbles at him “Why are you so against the Alliance?  What did they ever do to a rich boy like you?”  His smile is sad, and suddenly, she understands why he’s the way he is.  “You were in the war, weren’t you?”

            He nods, his eyes telling her that it’s not something he likes to discuss, particularly not with people like her, but she’s never really cared about things like that, so she presses on.  “Is that why you’re so against the Alliance?  Because your side lost?” 

            She can tell she’s hit a nerve, because his eyes blaze with an intensity that she’s never seen in a single person before and it terrifies her.  She’s not easily scared, but in this moment, she’s more afraid of him then she’s ever been of any of her father’s men.  He shakes his head, and his lips curl up into a humorless smile.  “No, my side didn’t lose.  That’s the problem.”  She’s thoroughly confused now.  With all his talk about overthrowing the Alliance, she’s had been almost sure that he would have been fighting tooth and nail against them, but the look on his face now tells her otherwise.  She isn’t sure where to go from there, and just sit, her mouth wide open.     

            She’s sure she’s shorted out.  Something in her brain must have fried, or the rice wine she’d been downing since she got to the bar however many hours ago is finally taking effect, because she can’t have heard that right, and she doesn’t even realize that he’s started talking again.  She shakes her head slightly as he says, “My family is very rich.  We have very old money, money from Earth-that-was.  I grew up privileged.  We had everything.  And then, when I was sixteen, I started to hear things.  My father’s business straddled to lines of legality, and whispers of revolution carried through the streets.  And then the war broke out.  I was seventeen, and fought against my father.  I was too young to join the Independents, so I started going to meetings, and I started to get ideas, which terrified my family.  I met a man named Lamarque, and he taught me everything.  He opened my eyes to the corruption of the Alliance.  And then he left.  He joined the Independent Faction once the Alliance got to close to his back, and he left everything to me.  The recruiting, the meetings, the acts of public destruction, all left in the hands of a seventeen year old kid.  My parents may have known about the meetings, but they didn’t know that I was one of the reasons that they were scared to go out at night.”

            At this point, he rubs his eyes, and runs a hand through his hair while scanning the bar.  She watches him closely.  She had been sure that she had figured out this silly rich boy who thought he could change how their worlds work, but even now, she can tell that there are scars that are deeper than his pretty face.  She feels the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder, but she doesn’t, and when he resumes his story, her eyes are glued to him.

            “Everything was going alright.  We had been planning a demonstration.  The browncoats were winning battles, and after the fall of Athens, everyone thought that the war would be over soon.  Except then we got a communication saying the General Lamarque had been killed in action.  That changed everything.  Suddenly, we all had something hit close to home, one more thing to fight for.  The body was going to be shipped back, and given a hero’s welcome by the city, who knew how much the people admired Lamarque.  The decision was made that we would move up the demonstration to honor Lamarque, only we weren’t prepared.

“We had anticipated a demonstration, not a riot, which is what happened.  People were killed, and I was arrested.  My father knew… people within the Alliance, and he negotiated for my release, on the condition that I joined the Alliance in their fight.  I was nineteen, and terrified what would happen to me if the work I have done was labeled as treason, so I took the deal.  In the Battle of Du-Khang, I took a bullet to the shoulder, and was transferred to Ariel for recovery, which is where I met Combeferre.   When I was discharged from the hospital, the Alliance didn’t have much more use for me, so they sent me home.  My parents were so proud of their son, the one who fought for his government, for Unification.  Except I wasn’t that person, I was still the scared boy staring down Alliance police while his friends fell around him, causalities of a corrupt system.  I stayed with my parents for the rest of the year, being their prized pet, the one thing they could show off to their other rich friends.  A war hero.  That’s what they all called me.  Everything that happened before the war disappeared, and everything went back to normal, only they didn’t for me.” 

She’s speechless, not only because this regret and longing is the first emotion she has seen from him that wasn’t anger or disdain.  She taps her fingers against the side of the glass, trying to think of something to say.  She opens her mouth, and the first thing she can think of comes flying out.  “What exactly are you planning?” 

He’s been open with everything else, but whenever the conversations had skirted too closely to whatever his plan is, the subject is dropped or quickly changed.  Her father didn’t leave her with much, but one thing he said that has always stuck with her is the idea that you should never go into a deal if you don’t know your client, or what they are doing.  She knows this man is a revolutionary, and she knows he’s helped a great deal of people who were put at a disadvantage by the Alliance, helped reunite mother with their children and brought unjust lawmakers to their knees, but from what she can tell, they’ve always been moderately peaceful.  They don’t hurt people if they don’t have to, and their rate of death is the lowest of any rebels that she’s ever happened to meet, so she isn’t sure why they need her to get so many guns, and with such illegal means.  He sighs.  “Combeferre and I both agree that the time has come to exhibit our displeasure to the Alliance.  We intend for it to be a peaceful protest on U-Day.  The guns are just a precaution.  The last time, when everything got out of hand, we were unarmed, and were mowed down where we stood.  This time, we intend to stand a chance.” 

She wants to say something to this foolish boy, the one who thinks the Alliance will listen to him if he mocks them on the day of their greatest victory.  She wants to tell this man that the Alliance will not bend, that they will not break.  She knows.  She’s spent time in the hospitality the Alliance has to offer their criminals, and she’s sure this boy wouldn’t last a minute.  It would be better if they killed him. 

But she doesn’t tell him any of that, because the door to the bar bursts open, and Jehan rushes through, a mostly sober Courfeyrac trailing behind him, looking severely ruffled.  Jehan launches himself at her, and wraps her in a tight hug.  “’Ponine!  I told Courf you wouldn’t abandon me, didn’t I Courf?  I did.  I told him that my captain is the finest captain and she never leaves a man behind.” 

She tries to peel her merc off of herself enough to extend her hand to Enjolras.  He reaches out and shakes it, his expression stern.  She offers him a smile.  “I’ll see you tomorrow at the Eavesdown Docks.  Have your boys briefed and ready.”  He nods, and she grabs Jehan by the shoulder and guides him out of the bar.  She looks back to see Courfeyrac clap Enjolras on the shoulder, and sit down in her vacated chair.  She sees Enjolras, who had been focused on her for most of the night, turn his attention to his friend, who gestures to the bartender, and laughs openly.  She turns back around, and focuses on getting the incredibly intoxicated merc back to the ship.      

When they reach the docks, and she manages to get Jehan onto the ship, he turns to Eponine, and grasps her shoulders.  “Shhh, ‘Ponine, everything is going to be alright.  It’s going to be fine.”  And with that, Jehan pats her head like she’s a child who needs to be taken care of and stumbles toward his bunk, singing loudly and off-key.  She smiles as she watches him turn the corner, and the smile only fades when his singing does.  She sinks down to the ground, her back against the wall, and she rests her face in her hands, because despite Jehan’s insistence that everything will turn out alright, she’s not completely convinced.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so long! And I'm really sorry for anyone who reads this. Also, working out ages and when stuff happens, and where stuff happens is really freaking hard.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. So. Notes. There is some bastardized version of Chinese in this. It's mostly swear words. In this chapter, the (hopefully) italicized words mean Mother-humping son of a bitch. So that's fun. I hope you enjoyed this. Reviews are nice.


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